Final Destination: The Musical
by Jack E. Peace
Summary: Yes, it's a little weird but go with me on this one. The first and second Final Destination movies, in which the characters are forced the sing their innermost feelings (with the Deaths of course) (SUSPENDED until further notice)
1. Author's Note

Disclaimer: The characters and songs do not belong to me, anything else does.   
  
A/N: Okay, so I guess everyone know sees that I was serious about this idea. I've been working very hard on choosing the songs but if anyone has any ideas, I'm happy to have them. All the songs and their respective singers (the real people that is) will be credited at the end of the story, because it makes things much more simple that way.   
  
I don't really know why the F.D. characters are singing so it will be like every other musical out there (aside from "Chicago" and "Once More, With Feeling") where they just sing with no purpose but no one really seems to notice. I know some of the songs might be a little "corny" but go with me okay.   
  
I wanted to combine the two movies because I love Kimberly and Thomas, as well as Alex and Clear (and I love the bus scene in the first movie) so they're combined, working together but in a loose sense. You'll see what I mean when you read it...so please read it and review. I don't care if you tell me you love it, or hate it or think it's the funniest/stupidest thing you've ever read. Just please review! Love you guys for it!   
  
I know the whole "Final Destination" movie by heart so I'm going to try not to repeat it word for word, because what fun would that be right? We've all seen the movie, so we want something different right? Some of the dialouge is going to be from the movie, some will be my own.   
  
One last note, to all of those wonderful people who read "Why Can't I?" and are waiting for the promised sequel, wait a little longer because I can't post it until I have a name for it. So, be patient please, it's coming.   
  
See, this author review was so long that I had to make it separate, even though that messes up the chapter numbers. Oh well, who really cares right? Now please, read the story and enjoy! 


	2. Impending Trip

Chapter One   
  
Impending Trip   
  
Alexander Browning, seventeen and a senior in high school, was not looking forward to the last class trip he would ever take. He knew he had every reason to be as excited as the rest of his class, it was Paris after all, but he just couldn't work up the excitement that he was supposed to have. He was certain that it wasn't the fact that he didn't really understand a word of the French language, after all, his best friend didn't understand French any better then he did and Tod was too excited to be contained.   
  
It wasn't that. Alex couldn't really put his finger on what it was but he knew it was something. Every time he thought about setting foot on the plane he got slightly nauseous and his stomach tied itself up in knots. He got the same feeling when he looked at his open suitcase, already half full with wrinkled shirts and other items of clothing.   
  
Alex picked up his "Touring France" guidebook, noticing that it was residing in front of "Death of a Salesman" which managed to unnerve him even more. He ignored the play and tossed the guidebook onto his bed, looking over at his mother just as she entered the room.   
  
"Alex, Mr. Wagner just called, he's going to be by to pick you up in an hour." Barbara Browning informed her only son, frowning down at the bunched up outfits in the suitcase.   
  
The senior in high school looked at his mother and nodded once, taking a deep breath. He was really going to Paris, there were no two ways about it. Only lately had he begun to get really nervous, feeling like something terribly wrong was about to happen but he couldn't decide what.   
  
After straightening her son's clothes and dropping a few more outfits inside the suitcase, Barbara left Alex's room once again, leaving him alone to think and possibly figure out his feelings. He had tried to talk to Tod Wagner, whom he had known since grade school, but his friend had been too preoccupied with thinking of the trip to listen to his worries.   
  
Alex wandered over to his bedroom window and peered outside, noticing that the day was slightly overcast. It would probably rain later, which didn't bode well for the impending trip. On top of everything, Alex didn't need turbulence on his plane ride.   
  
"I just want to feel safe in my own skin, I just want to be happy again. I just want to feel, deep in my own world. On a different day, if I was safe in my own skin, then I wouldn't feel lost and so frightened. But this is today and I'm lost in my own skin. I just want to feel, safe in my own skin, I just want to be happy again." Alex sang under his breath, not really realizing that he was doing such a thing.   
  
His candid words do nothing to ease the fear that he felt inside; he realized it was fear, and not simply a case of the nerves. He was honestly afraid of getting onto the plane headed for Paris and Alex didn't remember ever being afraid like this before.   
  
~*~*~  
  
Alex stuffed his rolling suitcase on top of a mountain of other suitcases that all rested in the cargo hold underneath the Greyhound bus that had been roped into taking forty rowdy seniors to JFK airport. Tod and his brother George threw their bags in as well, both of them laughing about their plans in Paris and not noticing that Alex wasn't sharing in their excitement.   
  
The trio climbed onto the bus, taking seats in the middle, sitting behind Carter Horton and his girlfriend Terry Chaney and in front of Clear Rivers, who was sitting by herself beside the window, staring at her feet. Alex glanced behind him, noticing Clear for a second before sitting down, also beside the window, which was just fine with him because he knew looking outside would help take his mind off the trip.   
  
Tod and George continued to joke around, Tod knocking into the back of Carter's chair, which only drew unwanted attention from the jock, who turned around to face the gangly boy. "I'm warning you Wagner, touch my seat again and I'm going to kick your ass." He growled, narrowing his eyes and ignoring the 'hey cool it' look that Miss Valerie Lewton was shooting him from the front of the bus.   
  
Unable to resist, Tod grinned at the dark-haired jock and lightly kicked the back of the chair in front of him, causing George and Alex to shake their heads, the sort of look one would give to a man about to jump off a bridge. Carter jumped to his feet and looked like he was about to jump over the back of his seat, taking a swing at Tod, who ducked before the fist could make contact. That didn't stop Carter from continuing his attempt to throttle the boy; Tod leapt to his feet as well, attempting to make a dash for it.   
  
At the sound of the commotion, Clear lifted her head and narrowed her eyes before rolling them. It wasn't anything new for Carter to want to beat up one of his peers but she hadn't expected him to start a fight so soon. She had at least expected them to be in the airport before he found some stupid reason to pound on someone.   
  
"Hey, knock it off." Valerie Lewton commanded, getting to her feet and heading down the aisle. Carter ignored her and grabbed the collar to Tod's shirt, preparing to throttle the poor defenseless boy. "I am warning you Carter Horton if you don't let Tod go you will not be going on this trip."   
  
Miss Lewton's threat obviously got to the jock, who let go of Tod and turned around, trying to act as though nothing had happened. Clear sighed, shaking her head slightly, about to pull a book out of her black shoulder-bag when she noticed that Alex Browning was sitting in front of her.   
  
Now, it wasn't common knowledge, but Clear had been nursing a crush on Alex since Freshmen year and those feelings still hadn't gone away. They just hadn't manifested themselves yet but she had decided against her better judgment to confess her feelings to him in Paris. Sort of a last stand type thing; it was, after all, the end of the school year and who knew when she was going to see Alex again.   
  
Thinking about him now, and looking at his handsome profile caused butterflies to hatch inside her stomach and she felt her cheeks getting red. Hoping no one would notice, Clear bowed her head, looking at Alex out of the corner of her eye.   
  
"I'm tugging at my hair, I'm pulling at my clothes, I'm trying to keep my cool, I know it shows. I'm staring at my feet, my cheeks are turning red; I'm searching for the words inside my head. I'm feeling nervous, trying to be so perfect, 'cause I know you're worth it, you're worth it.  
  
"If I could say what I want to say, I'd say I wanna blow you away. Be with you every night am I squeezing you too tight? If I could say what I want to see, I want to see you go down, on one knee, marry me today. Guess I'm wishing my life away, with these things I'll never say.  
  
"It won't do me any good, it's just a waste of time. What use is it to you what's on my mind? If it ain't coming out, we're not going anywhere so why can't I just tell you that I care? 'Cause I'm feeling so nervous, trying to be so perfect, 'cause I know you're worth it, you're worth it.   
  
"If I could say what I want to say, I'd say I wanna blow you away. Be with you every night, am I squeezing you too tight? If could say what I want to see, I want to see you go down on one knee: marry me today. Guess I'm wishing my life away with these things I'll never say."   
  
Clear was silent once again, sighing deeply and leaning back in her seat; Alex was talking with Tod, while shouting Carter weary glances. No one noticed her, but no one ever did.   
  
The bus rumbled to life and pulled out of the Mt. Abraham High School parking lot. The trip had officially begun.   
  
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Okay, so it's not so musical like just yet; for those of you who have seen the "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" musical: "Once More, With Feeling", I'm sort of going for that idea: they have to sing what they feel but the person they're singing to or about doesn't always pay attention. I also have my own idea Alex's vision, so review and the next chapter will come. 


	3. Omens

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Wow, thanks for the all the reviews, so far, what a great turn out. I'm glad no one thinks it's completely stupid, at least not yet. This is the part leading up the premonition and I have my own ideas, so it's different, so I'm not just repeating the movie. Please reviews and enjoy! And, sorry there are no songs in this chapter, it's very hard to find a song that goes with Death and premonitions and plane explosions.   
  
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Chapter Two   
  
Omens   
  
The airport was crowded, despite the late hour and dreary weather. The storm Alex had wished against had made itself known, though without the fury that solid thunder clouds seemed to hold; the rain was a slight drizzle, trickling down the windows and down the metal overhangs that shielded the curb outside the entrance to JFK Airport.   
  
All the bags and suitcases of various suitcases and owners had been strewn carelessly across the curb and sidewalk, unloaded by an uncaring bus driver and Alex frowned as he tried to sort through the pile to find his rolling suitcase. Tod and George were in the process of pulling their luggage free from the bottom of the pile, bickering in their brotherly fashion.   
  
Carter was picking on his newest victim, Billy Hitchcock, while his blonde girlfriend, Terry Chaney, watched, giggling. Clear was knelt a few feet in front of Alex, taking a book out of her carryon bag and flipping through it, even as she zipped the bag back up. Miss Lewton was calling out to Christa Connors, holding a baby blue back out in front of her. "Here, you left this on the bus." Lewton told the teenager, who took the bag gratefully.   
  
For the moment, Alex forgot about finding his suitcase, watching Christa and her best friend, Blake Warner, gather their suitcases and numerous purses, their outfits showing off all of their...assets. He, as well as every other male in Mt. Abraham High, had suffered a crush on the two girls since they had developed those assets in the seventh grade. Tod had discovered, after a great deal of cross-checking, that he would be seated next to Christa while his lucky friend would be sitting next to Blake. Tod had high hopes for the long plane ride but Alex didn't sure his excitement, knowing that there was no possible way that either of them would be able to score with Christa and Blake, no matter how boring the plane ride became.   
  
Christa and Blake disappeared into the airport and Alex turned his attention back to finding his suitcase, which wasn't a difficult task because it was resting against the wall, surrounded by a few remaining duffel bags and rolling luggage. He reached forward and grabbed his suitcase by its extendable handle, bumping into someone who was also reaching for a bag beside his. Alex muttered a half-hearted "sorry" without really looking at the person standing next to him; had he looked, he would have seen Clear, who was looking at him with a mixture of curiosity and admiration, coffee colored eyes reflecting his image. Alex had always seemed like a mystery to her, even more so now, that she couldn't exactly explain why.   
  
Alex passed by her without so much of a glance, following his friend Tod and George into the airport, stepping through the sliding doors and letting out a blast of air conditioned air. Clear grabbed her medium size suitcase off the concrete and slung it over her shoulder, grabbing her carry-on bag, book and walk-man, following the straggling students into the airport.   
  
Valerie Lewton, Larry Murneau and two other teachers who had been roped into chaperoning went about rounding up the students, making sure they all had their passports and hustling them up the escalators so that they weren't late for their flight. Alex stepped on the ascending stairs behind Tod and George who were comparing their passport photos.   
  
"I didn't think anything could look worse then my yearbook photo." Tod muttered with disgust, flipping the booklet shut so he wouldn't have to look at his horrendous picture any longer.   
  
George shook his head with a smile, unable to resist a barb aimed at his brother. "How do you think I feel having to look at you all the time?" He questioned, repressing the smile, appearing serious.   
  
Tod looked honestly stunned, unsure of how to answer so he kept silent. Alex shook his head, a tiny smile curling up his lips; he glanced behind him, seeing Clear with her head bowed in a paperback, ears covered by headphones. He didn't let his gaze linger on Clear for long, looking ahead of him once again.   
  
After abandoning the escalator, the senior class found themselves on the upper level on the airport, where all the international flights arrived and departed. After a quick pause so that Larry Murneau could get his students to translate an French announcement on the intercom, the teens were about to mill about in the in Gate 46 waiting area. Valerie patrolled, attempting to keep the students in check while the other teachers sat in gossiped, watching the teenagers attempt to whittle away the remaining hour until their plane would arrive.   
  
Alex strolled over to the thick glass windows which over-looked the landing platform for lack of a better word. He felt Clear's eyes watching him as he passed by her but he didn't glance her way, too wrapped up in his own thoughts and anxieties to really care about her attention. His fears about the quickly approaching plane ride hadn't ceased and had in fact become worse. No one else seemed as nervous as he, except for perhaps Clear, who seemed to appear slightly anxious lately; his classmates were all behaving as they would normally, appearing more like they were at home then in an airport. Christa and Blake were flipping through French magazines, Carter and Terry were no so privately making out on one of the plastic blue seats and Miss Lewton was searching the lobby for Billy Hitchcock.   
  
Alex looked past his faded reflection in the glass and noticed that Flight 180 was slowly pulling against the ramp that would deposit passengers, much earlier then expected. As Alex looked at the aircraft, he sighed, leaning his forehead against the glass and shutting his eyes.   
  
As soon as his eyes shut, he was assaulted, blinded by a variety of images, most that he couldn't quite sort out; he saw a freight train barreling into a car parked along the tracks, a horrendous highway pile up and most noticeably, he saw Flight 180, rocked by turbulence. He saw himself sitting on the plane, next to Tod, in front of Clear; it became obvious that more then turbulence was causing the plane to shake.   
  
Oxygen masks dropped from over-head compartments and everyone frantically grabbed hold of the surely useless yellow devices; the left side of the plane tore off, the metal falling into the warm May air.   
  
Just as Alex opened his eyes again, breathing heavily and sweating, he saw the plane explode and his own face burned away in the explosion. He stumbled backward slightly, finding himself back in the airport lobby, staring at Flight 180, still in one piece. Tod was standing next to him, looking at him, confused, concerned and perhaps even a bit frightened.   
  
Alex whirled around, looking past Tod and seeing that his peers were slowly filing into the loading ramp and getting on the plane. If his dream was true, that meant that they were all going to die if they got on that plane.   
  
True or not, Alex knew that he just couldn't take that chance. 


	4. Visionary

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Sorry it's taken me so long to update but I've been busy with school, writing a ballad for Lit class (which is now posted on fictionpress for your enjoyment) and writing my other fics but here is another chapter. I thought of a lot of ways to make this fic different from the movie so watch for that later. I like the reviews I've gotten so far, especially Dharke's reviews; go read them, they're hilarious and everyone else has been very sweet. Thanks, keep up the good work!  
  
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Chapter Three   
  
Visionary   
  
Alex pushed away from Tod and rushed toward the doorway that lead into the boarding tunnel. He was worried to see that very few members of his class remained in the lobby, but that wasn't going to stop him from keeping them off the plane. "That plane is gonna explode!" He cried, drawing everyone's attention to him.   
  
Miss Lewton glared at him, stepping away from the straggling students she was hustling along and approached him. "Alex, this is not funny and completely uncalled for." She snapped, crossing her arms across her chest and attempting to appear like she was an authority figure.   
  
"This is not a joke." Alex assured her, ignoring Tod's concerned questions, looking past Miss Lewton to his peers, who were gawking at him. Carter and Terry were among those that had yet to board the aircraft, along with Clear and a quiet girl, Kimberly Corman and her best friend Shania Macalister. "That plane is going down, you have to believe me, do not get on that plane!" He commanded, pleading much more desperately then he ever had before.   
  
Carter broke away from Terry, stalking over to the frightened teenager. "Browning, if you don't shut the fuck up, I'll make sure you do." He hissed, grabbing hold of Alex's shirt collar and pulling him inches closer to him.   
  
Alex wrenched away from the jock's grip, too worried about the safety of his classmates to be concerned about Carter's common threats. "Just listen to me! You cannot get on that plane!" He felt like he didn't have the energy to continue pleading, just praying that they would heed his desperate warning.  
  
Clear was staring at him, eyes wide with something that wasn't surprise or interest, something more like fear; her heart beat harshly in her chest, adrenaline pumped through her veins. She felt like she had never been more frightened in her life, though she wasn't quite sure why because all she had been doing was standing in line waiting for them to check her ticket. Then she had felt an over-whelming wash of fear sweep over her and then Alex had started freaking out...   
  
By this time, Alex's yelling had attracted more then the stares of his classmates, including the airport security, who were rushing into the lobby with the wing's manger at their feet. The manager took one look at Alex and decided that was where the commotion was stemming from and rushed over to him. "What the hell is going on here?" He snapped, approaching the now exhausted teenager, who only glanced at him warily. "This sort of humor is not appreciated young man."   
  
Alex shook his head frowning. "It's not a joke. Get on that plane and get all of those people off, that fucking plane is going to explode!" He had suddenly found his energy again, sprouting from his worry and conviction. There was no doubt in his mind that Fight 180 was never going to reach Paris.   
  
"That's it, no one in this lobby is getting aboard that plane, and this decision is final." The manager snapped, seeing no other coarse of action.   
  
Carter looked at the man, his anger at Alex switching targets. "I paid for a trip to Paris and I plan on going on that god-damn trip!" He snapped, Terry adding her uncalled for agreement from behind her jock boyfriend.   
  
"Not on this flight you're not." The manager retorted, slightly catching Carter by surprise, turning on his heel and heading toward the gate, sliding the door shut despite Shania Macalister's protests. Kimberly and Clear continued to remain silent, content for the moment to what the whole ordeal play out without them.   
  
For a moment, the eight students didn't quite no what to do; it was obvious that there was nothing they could say to change the manager's mind, nothing to do to keep the plane from leaving without them. Valerie sighed, shoulders sagging as she motioned for the remaining students to gather around her. Only Alex and Clear remained where they stood, too anxious, exhausted and confused to move. "There's another flight in an hour, it gets in a little bit later but that's better then nothing, right?" She questioned, clearly waiting for the teenagers to respond. They had nothing for her and dispersed into their respective groups, Carter eyeing Alex, eyes filled with anger.   
  
Valerie approached Alex, sighing deeply as she bit her bottom lip briefly. "Alex, what was all of that about?" She questioned, trying to sound sympathetic when she was truly worried and even a bit frightened. A tiny part of her almost believed what the boy had been saying but she wouldn't let that part become known.   
  
It was Alex's turn to sigh, his gaze ticking over to the thick windows, where Flight 180 was just beginning to pull down the runway. "I don't know, it was like I saw it; I saw the plane explode. Then, I realized that I was still back in the lobby and I knew, I just knew that the plane was really going to explode." He confessed, not certain if the words made any sense.   
  
Valerie wasn't quite sure what to say so she kept quiet, following Alex's gaze and watching the plane begin its take-off. Tod looked just as nervous as Alex and the teacher remembered that the boy's brother was on the plane, and she prayed that Alex was wrong.   
  
Flight 180 lifted off the runway and into the velvet night sky, beginning its seven hour flight toward Paris. Alex watched the plane with growing relief; he had been wrong after all, the aircraft wasn't going to explode, it had only been a nightmare.   
  
The next events would only take seconds to occur, but for everyone in the lobby, it would seem like a lifetime. The plane appeared to shake slightly as it gained altitude, rocking toward the right. Then, the plane was gone all together, replaced by a fireball, engulfing the craft and sending metal and debris rocketing through the air.   
  
Seconds later, the plate glass windows before them shattered on impact of the explosion, sending glass shards into the lobby, littering the ground. Alex felt his eyes grow wide and his mouth drop open; he felt as though he could no longer stand on his feet, felt his body go numb. He was vaguely aware of someone's shocked cry, Terry's he believed, and beside him, a strangled sob escaped Valerie's throat.   
  
Alex dropped to his knees, the sheer shock and surreal nature of the whole scene sinking in so fully that he could do nothing else. Aside from Valerie, no one else said anything, standing in stunned silence, listening to the shrill sirens of the rescue vehicles heading toward the scene of the crash.  
  
The silence was broken by sudden sound of a voice, belonging to a very confused Billy Hitchcock. "Is it too late to get on the plane? The lock on my bathroom door was stuck and I couldn't get out and..." He trailed off, looking at the ground around him. "What did I miss?"   
  
* * *   
  
The nine 'lucky' survivors sat in a back room attached to a wing of the airport, the only sound being that of the ticking wall clocks, all advertising times from different countries. Everyone was glaring at Alex, as though trying to sort him out, read his thoughts, except for Clear, who was only staring straight ahead. Finally, Alex could stand it no longer and said, "You're looking at me as if I caused this, I didn't cause this."   
  
Valerie sighed, as though she was happy the silence had been broken. "Are there any survivors?" She asked him, hoping that his answer would be affirmative.   
  
Tod looked over at his friend, eyes hopeful, praying for the sake of his brother. Alex hated the look he saw in his friend's eyes and wished he could say something other then, "How should I know?"   
  
Everyone was silent once again and Alex was left to his own thoughts, trying to figure out why he had suffered the vision in the first place. He figured it had started in the morning, with his ominous feelings, which had only gotten worse.  
  
* "The sky was dark this morning, not a bird in the trees. And silence hung suspicious and anxious like a blanket covered scream. " He sung quietly, unnoticed by those around him, pausing in his thoughts. "And I cursed the sky and begged the sun to fall all over me, this life's not living, living ain't free. If I can't find my way back to me, let the sun fall down over me.   
  
"All my friends are searching, quiet, desperately; look into their eyes you'll see the faithless crying save me, save me, save me. And what are they to feel, who are they to be? And what am I to do with, do with me, but let the sun fall all over me, this life's not living, living ain't free. If I can't find my way back to me, let the sun fall down over me. Until my eyes cry out, 'til my head is free from doubt, 'til my lungs sigh right out. 'Til I'm wiser."   
  
The entrance door opened and two middle-aged men dressed in suits walked in, their attention all ready fixed upon Alex. "If no one feels that they need any medial attention or spiritual counseling at this time then we'd like to ask you all a few questions." They paused, making sure Alex knew that there next words were aimed directly at him. "We need to begin our investigation into any criminal activity regarding the explosion."   
  
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Okay, here's another chapter to tide everyone over, please review. I made up Shania's last name of course. I know the song I chose didn't exactly fit in every instance and a lot of people probably don't know it (it's a Fuel song) but it was the closest thing I could find. Also, I stared the beginning to song to signal its start. Please review! 


	5. Connection

Okay, at long last, here is another chapter for my wonderful readers, so Dharke, you can breath easy now... Anyway, thanks for all the great reviews, I love you guys! So please, enjoy and review and, just a word of warning, the song in this chapter is somewhat hokey (and I'm sure Dharke will have a field day with her review this time...) but I love musicals and this song is from a cheesy musical so anyway...(major bonus points to anyone who can tell me what musical...) Please enjoy and review!   
  
Chapter Four   
  
Connection   
  
The agents had been sent from the F.B.I. to begin preliminary questioning and introduced themselves as Shriek and Weine, looking just a dour and businesslike as their names suggested. Their names and division was the only information they would divulge before ushering Alex out of the room and into a smaller area, more cubical in appearance. Alex dropped into a steel chair placed in front of cracked plastic table, sitting opposite of Weine and Shriek, who regarded him as one might stare at a criminal.   
  
"Alex, can you explain to us what happened?" Shriek questioned, pursing his pale lips as soon as he finished speaking, trying to project the tough-cop persona that he pretended fit him so well.   
  
Honestly, however, Alex found himself not the least bit intimidated by either of the agents, who looked as though they belonged in a car dealership and not the F.B.I. but he kept these feelings to himself. He said, instead, "I had this weird feeling."   
  
Weine shifted in his seat, glaring at the teenager. "Alex, do you take any drugs: narcotics, sleeping pills anything?" When the teenager shook his head, the agent tried a different approach, already knowing that they probably weren't going to get anywhere with Alex that night. "So, why did you have this...vision?"   
  
Alex stared straight at the man until the agent looked away, unable to hold the unnerving stare. "You think I asked for whatever happened? I don't know why I saw what I saw. I didn't want the plane to explode, didn't want to think it was going to happen." He said, his voice flat and firm, all the more unnerving to the agents.   
  
"Well, if that was the case Alex," Shriek began, "then why did you really keep those people from getting on the plane?"   
  
Alex found that had no answer for that question.   
  
* * *   
  
After their conversation with Alex, Weine and Shriek went about questioning the other survivors of the plane explosion. Tod Wagner was the next teenager they questioned, though they didn't get much out of him because he was too distraught about the fact that his twin brother had been on the plane when it had exploded.   
  
Valerie Lewton did little more then cry during her interview, upset because her colleges had been on Flight 180 and she felt guilty for not being on the plane as well. Carter Horton was indifferent to the whole ordeal, though it was clear that his was shaken despite his tough exterior. Terry Chaney whined about how her cheerleader friends had been onboard before complaining that all of her black funeral clothes had gone out of style months ago. Kimberly Corman answered all of the agents' questions with wide-eyes, as though she still couldn't believe that she had almost died and was now taking part in a police investagation. Shania Macalister first demanded to see her lawyer before realizing that she wasn't the one in trouble and decided then to offer her own conspiracy theories about the explosion. Billy Hitchcock appeared not to comprehend the ordeal, sticking to his story about being stuck in the bathroom as though it would keep him out of jail.   
  
Clear Rivers was the last survivor to be questioned, seeming both frightened and composed at the same. "Okay Clear," Shriek began, sighing deeply, the long hours taking a toll on him, "can you tell us your version of what happened?"   
  
"I had this...uneasy feeling right as I was about to get on the plane then Alex started freaking out. When he said the plane was going to explode...I believed him." Clear answered solemnly.   
  
* * *   
  
With nothing more to do that night, the F.B.I. agents departed once again, promising to keep in touch, once again speaking directly to Alex, who pretended not to notice. Once Weine and Shriek had left, the room was silent once again, aside from Miss Lewton's sniffling; everyone was trying hard not to look at Alex, aside from Clear, who appeared to be studying him as one would study something that intrigued, not frightened, them.   
  
Thirty minutes went by before the door opened once again and Ken and Barbara Browning rushing into the room, taking their son into their arms and embracing him fervently. The rest of the teenagers' respective parents entered as well, each searching out their children. At the sight of their parents, both Terry and Kimberly began to cry; Carter attempted to appear as though he didn't need his parents for support, but welcomed his mother's embrace just the same.   
  
Alex lifted his head and scanned the room, catching eyes with Tod's father, who looked at him accusingly. He quickly looked away, ashamed, though he didn't know why. His eyes settled next upon Clear, who was standing near the door, shifting uncomfortably, waiting for her parents to show up. Unable to stop himself, Alex pulled away from his mother and crossed the room, causing Clear to look over at him, slightly surprised at his approach. "Are your parents coming?" He questioned, which caused the brunette to scoff.   
  
"My mother and step-father probably fought I even existed." She replied, looking as though she wanted badly to believe that such a thing wasn't true.   
  
Alex wasn't sure what to say so he didn't say anything for a beat. Finally, he returned his gaze to Clear's face and said, "Do you want a ride home?"   
  
* * *   
  
The car ride toward Clear's house was taken in complete, uncomfortable silence. Clear's gaze shifted constantly toward Alex, who was staring out the window, absorbed in thought. As she studied him, Clear realized that she had never felt an attraction to someone like she did with Alex; moments before he had shouted that the plane was going to explode, she had suffered an uneasy feeling of the likes she had never suffered before. It was almost as though she had suffered a horrible vision as well, but without any images.   
  
The Browning vehicle finally stopped in front of her driveway. "Thank you for the ride." Clear told Ken and Barbara as she slipped out of the car and began to walk down her driveway, heedless of the rain. She stopped and turned around, watching the car begin to drive away, surprised to see Alex staring after her.   
  
CLEAR: "I've been wondering if it's time, just to say what's on my mind. 'Cause I'm in the dark what's in your heart? The thought of you remains, suddenly my pulse is jumping do you feel the same? I guess it all depends on how you really feel but can you comprehend?"   
  
Alex stared after Clear until he could see her no longer, finally taking his gaze away from the window with a sigh.  
  
ALEX: "You could be just what I need right now, hoping this love is yet to be found."   
  
CLEAR & ALEX: "It's not too late to call my name, so don't you look the other way. Open your eyes and you'll see, my heart won't wait, doesn't hesitate, we've got a chance we gotta take. It feels like you could be, forever part of me."   
  
ALEX: "I don't know where to begin. Should I play it cool or jump right in?"   
  
CLEAR: "How am I supposed to know, whether I should come or go, I think it's time we let our feelings show."   
  
ALEX & CLEAR: "We might let this moment just pass us by then love's gone in the blink of an eye. It's not too late to call my name so don't you look the other way. Open your eyes and you'll see, my heart won't wait, don't hesitate, we've got a chance we gotta take. Feels like you could be, forever part of me."   
  
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Okay, there's the end of another chapter, I hope to have the next chapter up soon, so please review. I tried another format of writing out the things and I think I like this one better but you guys tell me what you think, and what's easier to read. So please enjoy and review! 


	6. Foreboding Feelings

Sorry for the gap between updates; I've written the same apologetic note on my "Stuck" fic as well, so I don't feel the need to repeat all the details except: sorry, I'm very sorry! But, here is an update, I hope it is enjoyable for my lovely readers' long wait. So, Dharke, are you old and gray while reading this? Anyway, please enjoy and review!   
  
Chapter Five Foreboding Feelings   
  
It was no surprise to Alex that he couldn't sleep. In fact, he expected never to be able to sleep again, after everything that had happened in the past couple of hours. So, instead of sleeping like his parents, he paced the downstairs of his house, the latest information about the plane explosion ringing in his ears in the form of a news report. All the reports were the same, no matter what station or reporting was voicing them: there was no leads on what had caused Flight 180 to explode shortly after take off and, what was worse, it was highly doubtful that there would be any survivors. The reports also lightly touched down on the fact that several students had been removed, but they were reluctant to give too many details. 'The F.B.I. doesn't want them tampering with their investigation,' Alex realized, though it wasn't much of a revelation. He could have cared less if the public screwed around with the investigation, Weine and Shrek all ready thought he was responsible.   
  
Alex continued to pace around the living room, stopping by the window to gaze out into the seemingly peaceful world that they beyond the glass. The neighborhood was quiet, aside from the occasional rumble of thunder in the distance. The worst of the natural storm was beyond them now, but Alex feared that another storm was waiting to overcome them once more.   
  
* * *   
  
Thirty-nine days had passed since the explosion of Flight 180 as it took off from John F. Kennedy airport, heading toward Paris and a chance for freedom. But now, everyone that had been onboard the plane was now dead, with no chance of freedom in sight for them.   
  
Alex sat beside his mother and father as he listened to his balding principal deliver the best eulogy his academic training had prepared him for. The entire surviving Mt. Abraham student body was gathered outside on the courtyard, sitting in silence and waiting for the memorial to be unveiled.   
  
"So, before we can heal, begin to celebrate life, we must remember and celebrate theirs, with this memorial." The pudgy man finished as two female members of the student council tugged away the beige sheets covering a huge bronze eagle with its wings spread wide, remaining stationary on a heavy block engraved with the names of those that had perished on Flight 180.   
  
Alex let out a slow sigh as he studied the statue, taking his eyes away from the golden names he couldn't read and glancing behind him. First his eyes settled on Clear, who was sitting off to one side, alone as she always was, dressed in flattering black and holding a white rose. She seemed to sense him staring at her and looked over at him, locking eyes with him for a brief moment before Alex tore his eyes away. Instead, he noticed Agents Weine and Shrek staring his way, their arms crossed over their perfectly pressed suits, attempting to look threatening and commanding. The agents looked neither to Alex and he looked away again, noticing that a throng of students had begun to file toward the memorial to lay their roses upon the bronze base.   
  
Without a word to his parents, Alex stood and threaded his way toward the students as well, not noticing that Clear stood when he did, heading toward the front to join him. It was just his luck that he ended up behind Carter and Terry, who were leaning against each other in support; he couldn't help but notice how perfect Terry looked, not a hair out of place upon her head, nor was any of her makeup smudged. Alex did his best to try and ignore Carter, knowing that now was no time to get into a fight with the jock but Carter had other ideas.   
  
"Browning, I don't owe you anything 'cause my name ain't up on this wall." He called over his shoulder, causing Alex to sigh and shift his weight as he walked, closing his eyes briefly.   
  
"I know." Alex mumbled, hoping to leave the conversation at that but, perhaps because he sensed the teen's discomfort, Carter whirled around, catching Terry off guard.   
  
"Because of these people I've learned to live my life to the fullest." Carter snapped, as though attempting to justify exactly why he hadn't died on the plane explosion with some of his much better classmates.   
  
Alex rolled his eyes, though he hoped that the antagonistic jock didn't notice. "Then why don't you stay off the J.D. Carter." He mumbled, unable to help himself, smelling the alcohol thick on his breath.   
  
Carter let go of Terry, pushing her aside as he grabbed at Alex, gripping his arm tightly and pulling his closer. "Don't ever tell me what to do; I control my life, not you!" He hissed, tightening his grip when Alex attempted to wrestle away.   
  
"Carter." Terry hissed, pulling her boyfriend away from Alex, who looked too exhausted or bewildered to resist fighting against his violent advances. With a final glare at the teenager, Carter released his hold, and, before turning back to face Terry, said, "I'm never gonna die."   
  
Alex watched him continue down the line, wishing that he could take comfort in Carter's ill-comforting words but he could do no such thing; it wasn't the fact that he knew that Carter would say someday, they all would. He just hoped it wasn't someday soon.   
  
* * *   
  
Alex had just laid down his rose when he was aware of someone standing beside him. When he turned, he was relieved to see that it was no one other then his friend Tod, whom he hadn't spoken to since the night of the accident. Tod dropped his rose as well, straighting again and turning to look at his friend, who gave him a stretched silence.   
  
"Tod, don't take this the wrong way, but...I've missed you lately." Alex confessed, feeling that he could speak with candor to his childhood friend.   
  
Tod offered a weak smile as well, shrugging his shoulders slightly as he sighed. "Yeah, I've missed you too man. But, my dad, you know, he doesn't understand. But, you know when some time has passed, we'll do something together, maybe go on a road trip to the city, watch a Yank's game." He offered, attempting to let Alex know that he didn't blame him for what had happened to the plane and his brother. Not anymore.   
  
Alex was relieved that his friend was offering to make amends first, for he didn't know how he could go about doing such a thing. "Yeah, okay, we'll do that man." He agreed, his smile much more genuine this time.   
  
Tod nodded once before saying, "I'd better go, Miss Lewton showed me this thing that they're going to let me read. It says what I'm feeling." The two friends shared a brotherly hugged before Tod wandered off to find his parents and Miss Lewton, who was going to introduce him and his connection to the deceased before he spoke whatever speech he had been given.   
  
Alex turned to go but was stopped when he ran into Clear, who quickly thrust her white rose into his hands, as though she had to act before she changed her mind. "Because you I'm still alive. Thank you." Alex took the rose, bewildered, wanting to say something to the brunette what she was gone before he could even open his mouth.   
  
He stared down at the white rose in his hand, staring after Clear with a confused look upon his face. So far, she had been the only one to say thank-you for the strange actions he had preformed.   
  
* * *   
  
"We say that the hour of death cannot be forecast." Tod began, pausing and clearing his throat nervously, staring down at the gaggle of people who were seated before the platform he now stood upon. "But, but when we say this we imagine that the hour is placed in an obscure and distance future; it never occurs to us that it has any connection with the day all ready begun. Or that death could come this very day, this day which is so certain and has every hour filled in advance."   
  
Tod paused, clearing his throat once more and letting his gaze drift toward the overcast day. He couldn't help but think about his brother, who had teased and mocked, but surely loved him.   
  
TOD: "The rage in my eyes could have compared to the eye of the sun. Then rain took its course through the hands of the sun. The world is at war leaving hope behind.   
  
"So, is this the end for us my friend? The saints in the sky are there to remind us of man and his plight. When two worlds collide, one steals a life like a thief in the night. So look to the sky, He holds the keys for your life and mine.   
  
"So, is this the end for us my friend? Well, as the wind rides, as the day breaks for dawn and as the moon hides the sun. No more sorrow, oh those crying days are gone. No more sorrow, now its gone.   
  
"Now it's gone. So, is this the end for us my friend?"  
  
Even though he was the survivor of a horrible accident and everyone said that he should feel lucky...he didn't. He felt guilty, and, strangely afraid. Afraid that the end was near, after all.   
  
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So, I know this wasn't the best song but I wanted to put a song in there cause it is, after all, a musical. And I don't want to repeat the movie word for word, because we've all already seen it. So, anyway, please review! 


	7. Tod

Back with a vengeance, it's the musical that ruins all other musicals! Well...perhaps not, but it is back for continuation. A note to all my loyal "Stuck" readers, the nastiest bitch that could ever strike a writer has taken a bite of me...that writer's block. So, I have to finish my large Lit paper is weekend but I'm going to try and revive "Stuck" and have a new chapter soon. So, thanks for sticking with me and my spastically updated stories. 

Chapter Six 

Tod 

Alex had spent the remainder of afternoon and much of the evening inside the protection of his room, ignoring his mother's requests for him to come down to eat dinner and his father's offering to talk in favor of pouring over the many books he had checked out from the library about plane explosions and disastrous predictions. So far, he had found nothing useful, nothing that would tell him just why he had suffered his vision of the plane explosion and, more importantly, why it had actually come true. Was it possible that he had seen the future? That idea was becoming less and less strange to Alex. 

With a sigh, Alex set down the book that he had been flipping through and glanced out the window, studying the branches that quivered in the slight breeze. The world outside seemed completely separate from the one that he seemed to live in now, it was the world he had used to know, the one he understood. Now all he saw were things he didn't understand, things he wanted to understand; now he saw only Death. 

_No one knows what it's like to be the bad man, to be the sad man behind blue eyes. No one knows what it's like to be hated, to be faded, to telling only lies. But my dreams, they aren't as empty as my conscience seems to be. I have hours, my love is vengeance, that's never free. _Alex sang. 

__

No one knows what it's like to feel these feelings, like I do. No one bites back as hard on their anger, none of my pain can show through. But my dreams, they aren't as empty, as my conscience seems to be. I have hours, my love is vengeance. That's never free.

No one knows what it's like to be mistreated, to be defeated behind blue eyes. And no one knows how to say that they're sorry, and don't worry, I'm not telling lies. But my dreams they aren't as empty as my conscience seems to be. I have hours, my love is vengeance, that's never free. No one knows to be the bad man, to be the sad man, behind blue eyes. 

A breeze rippled through Alex's bedroom, gently caressing his cheek, causing him to shudder slightly. The newspaper that lay upon his dusk fluttered as well, drawing his attention to the printed pages; the headline caught his head and he reached forward to pick it up, studying the print. _Memorial Service for Students Held Today_, the block letters read, hovering above a black and white photo of Clear, staring forlornly in front of her, the white rose she had given Alex held between her fingers. Sighing, Alex set the paper aside once more and leaned forward to switch on his fan, hoping that circulating the stale air would help him recollect his thoughts. 

Instead, the air simply drew his attention back to the newspaper and, more specifically the photo of Clear. Alex didn't know why, but Clear had been in his head almost as much as the events in the air port; though he tried to deny it, it was impossible to push aside the way he felt a certain connection to her that he couldn't explain. He saw it in her eyes as well, had heard it in her voice when she had thanked him for saving her life. Clear felt the connection as well. 

Alex picked up the paper once more, studying the article intently, as though the tiny print would somehow solve all of his problems. Alex jumped a good five inches when something heavy slammed into his window; heart race quickening and breath coming quicker, he slowly turned to regard whatever nightmare had crashed against the glass, breathing a sigh of relief when he saw it was nothing more then an owl. 

The owl remained outside of his window, no doubt perching on the trellis, studying him with his large, golden eyes. Feeling a sudden burst of anger, Alex hurled the newspaper at the window, hoping to frighten the giant bird away; the paper, however, never made it to the window but instead got caught in the blades of his rotating fan. 

The thin paper wrapped around the spinning blades, shredding and floating out of the grille and toward the floor. Alex watched the pieces as they swirled around, frowning at the mess he would have to clean up later on. His frowned deepened, however, when one of the papers landed upon his knee. 

Feeling the same sense of foreboding that he had felt in the air port, Alex picked the shred off his knee and turned it around to look at the other side. His heart, which had finally slowed, began to quicken once again as he saw the single word printed upon the scrap: Tod. 

* * * 

The Wagner household was silent aside from the football game buzzing from inside the living. Tod appreciated the silence, for once, because it meant that his parents were asleep or, for once, not grieving over the loss of their eldest son. Though his missed his brother, Tod sometimes wondered if his parents forgot that they had another son. 

Tod shut the bathroom door behind him, sighing as he studied the bathroom that his mother had decorated when they had moved in ten years ago. Not a single thing about it had changed, not even the rubber duck and beaded octopus that rested upon a wicker shelf. 

Tod crossed over to the sink, regarding himself in the mirror and running his fingers along his smooth chin. Spying George's razor, still lying on the countertop where he had laid it before leaving for the airport, he picked it up and ran it along his chin, though he knew he had nothing to shave. The blades nicked his skin, leaving a bloody patch and Tod decided that he'd shave a little later on. 

The silence of the house was beginning to become too much for him, making it too easy to remember George and what had happened in the airport. He was trying not to blame Alex for not being able to save his brother, trying to remind himself that, if not for Alex, then he would be dead as well. But when it was completely silent, it was hard for him to keep those things in mind.

Tod reached for the plug of his portable radio and inserted it in the outlet, hoping to take up some of the silence that way. _"Colorado rocky mountain high..._" Remembering the John Denver song from the airport, Tod quickly yanked the cord out of the wall, chuckling slightly. 

With his mind occupied on shaving and the songs on the radio, Tod didn't notice that the toilet was beginning to drip, leaking water upon the floor. The miniature river was beginning to creep silently across the tiles toward Tod's feet, pooling behind him. With a final look in the mirror, Tod turned away and headed toward the bathtub; the water turned as well, snaking after him, 

Tod pushed back the shower curtain and frowned when he saw that his mother had left her bras and pantyhose hanging on the clothes line to dry. He pulled the garments off and set them aside on the toilet, stepping back to grab the shampoo off the whicker self. As he stepped backward, his foot slipped on the pool of liquid that had been lying in wait behind him, causing him to lose his balance and stumble forward. The clothes line wrapped around Tod's neck, tightening as he fell into the bathtub; Tod wrapped his fingers around the line in an attempt to pull it from around his neck but was unable to do such a thing. His feet, wet from the water, were unable to get a firm purchase on the bottom of the tub, leaving him flailing around. 

Tod opened his mouth to call for help but the cord tightened, cutting off his air supply and leaving his gaping like a fish out of water. He gave up trying to pull the line from around his neck and, spotting the clippers that were used to trim nose hairs on the shelf, began to strain to reach those. The blood vessels in his eyes popped as he contained to struggle; Tod tried to pull in breathes but found himself unable to do so. 

The clippers were out of reach, so Tod went back to trying to pull the cord away from his skin. With a final jerk, Tod went slack, his arms slumping at his sides, body going limp in the wire, motionless. 

The water began to trickle backward toward the toilet, disappearing and leaving Tod alone in silence was more. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Just a little side note about Alex's song in this chapter, he really does have beautiful blue eyes...does he not? 


	8. Questions Answered

Yes, Dharke, I have returned from the mental institution and I'm glad to know that it did some good. Though, you'll probably want to take all of that back after you read this chapter; didn't you want me to warn you whenever there would be some Alex and Clear interaction? Well, consider yourself warned. As for me knowing the movie very well, I should hope so; it's my favorite movie and, yes, I do know it by heart. I really do, but no one ever believes me. Anyways, here's another chapter in the musical, which is almost as good as _Chicago_....right.... 

Chapter Seven 

Questions Answered 

When Alex arrived at the Wagner house, he saw that he was too late to save his friend; however, he felt like he had known that he wouldn't be able to save Tod all along, but that hadn't stopped him from rushing from his house to Tod's. Instead of seeing the Wagner household peaceful and quiet, he saw the driveway clustered with ambulances, police cars and a coroner's van. Tod's mother was on the stoop, her arms wrapped around her shoulders, eyes red from crying. 

Alex took a step forward. "What happened?" He questioned one of the officers as they walked past him. "Where's Tod?" 

He didn't get an answer from the middle-aged officer, who breezed past him as though he hadn't even heard Alex speak. Alex took another step forward, but whirled around when he heard someone whisper his name, surprised to see Clear standing, partially hidden behind a tree. "Alex, get out of here." She urged when she saw that he had noticed her. 

Alex gave her a quizzical glance before turning around again to study the surreal scene playing out before him. Noticing the teenager standing in the driveway, Mr. Wagner left his wife's side and headed over to where Alex stood, a rough look upon his face. 

"Didn't you see it?" Wagner questioned when he stopped in front of Alex, who gave him a confused, worried look. "You caused Tod so much guilt over George staying on the plane that he took his own life." 

Though he had feared all along that his friend was dead, hearing his fears confirmed was like a blow to the stomach. "No." Alex muttered breathlessly, gazing past Wagner to see two men in white paramedic uniforms tightening the straps around the black body bag that no doubt held Tod. "He said to me that we'd be friends again after _you _got better. Why would be make plans with me if he was thinking about killing himself?" He snapped, much more harshly then he had intended. Wagner glared at the teenager before turning back to join his wife. 

Alex sighed and turned back to face Clear, surprised to find that she had disappeared; he was even more surprised, however, to see that the two F.B.I. agents that he questioned him thirty-nine days ago where standing off to one side of the driveway. Alex watched until the coronor loaded Tod into the back of his truck before finally heading home. 

* * * 

Skipping breakfast the next morning, Alex left home, heading for Clear's house based on the directions that Clear had given his parents all those days before. The trip seemed much longer on foot but he used the time to collect his thoughts about just what he wanted to say to Clear; was it possible that she recieved a sign about Tod's impending death just as he had? How had she known about Tod and, more importantly, that he would be there? 

Alex stopped at the foot of the driveway, surprised to see Clear standing outside wielding a blow torch with her hair pulled back beneath a faded brown hair. He took a step closer to the house, stopping again when a large German Shepard trotted toward him, noticing him before Clear had. Alex held his hand out for the dog to sniff, snatching it back quickly when the dog growled at him. 

Clear shut off her torch and turned to face Alex, not looking at all surprised to see him standing there. She slipped her hat off, shaking her hair lose and dropping her hat upon the table beside the torch. "Almost autumn." She muttered, not quite sure where she was heading with her confusion in seasons. 

Alex gave her a strange look as he got closer to her. "It's only the end of June." He corrected, raising an eyebrow. 

"Yeah, but everything's always in transistion." Clear said, shrugging slightly. "You focus now just one week into summer, you can almost feel autumn coming. I like being able to see the future." She raised an eyebrow as well, wanting to see how Alex would react to her statement. 

Alex studied her closely for a moment, trying to figure out what she was getting at before saying, "Why were you at Tod's house last night?" 

Clear didn't answer, instead she turned away from him and entered the garage; intent on getting some sort of an answer, Alex followed her inside, scanning the oddly decorated room. The walls were painted with bright colors and almost every avalible space was covered with finished art, abandoned art or simply junk. "I've seen enough T.V. to know that the F.B.I. doesn't investagate teen suicides." Clear answered finally, slipping off her heavy jacket and hanging it on a hook. "They were there last night which means, one, they still don't have a clue what caused the crash. Two, they haven't ruled out anything and the fact that seven people got off the plane is probably weird enough. Not to mention that one of those people had a vision...or whatever about the plane exploding minutes before it actually _did _explode is highly suspicous. And it doesn't help that the visionary's friend just comitted sucidie." 

Alex pursed his lips, studying her for a moment, trying to decide why the brunette had nerved worn a tank-top and jeans to school before since she looked suddenly so much more appealing. However, he said none of this and instead asked, "Why were _you _there last night?" 

Clear gave him a fleeting glance before brushing past him and stopping in front of a abstract piece of art work that she had no doubt fashioned. "Do you know what this is?" She asked him, threading her fingers around the curls that the base was made from. 

Alex raised his eyebrows, not quite sure of how to answer. "It's a...uh...springy head guy." He answered finally, for that was just what it looked like to him. 

The brunette regarded her work almost lovingly before returning her gaze back to Alex. "It's you, not a likeness, it's how you make me feel, Alex. Like you the sculpure doesn't even know what or why it is; it's relunctant to take form, yet creating an ablostue, but imcomprehendible attraction." 

Clear took her hand away from the coil and drew closer to Alex, until they were almost touching. "Four years of high school we haven't said one word to each other, yet at that moment, in the airport, I felt what you felt. I didn't even know where those emotions were coming from 'til you started freaking out. I didn't see what you saw, but I felt it. You can still feel it can't you? Something from that day is still with you, I know because I can still _feel _you. _That's _why I was there last night." She told him, feeling a bit of tension spark up between the two of them. 

Alex studied her closely for a moment, locking eyes with her before turning away and walking over to a table she had cluttered with glass knickknacks, putting his back to her. Clear sighed and dropped her eyes to the floor. 

_I've been watching you from a distance, but distance sees through your disguise. All I want from you is your hurting. I want to heal you, I want to save you from the dark. Give unto me your troubles, I'll endure your suffering. Place unto me your burden, I'll drink your deadly poison. _Clear sang. 

_Why should I care if they hurt you? Somehow it matters more to me then if I were hurting myself. Save you, I'll save you. Fear not the flame of my love's candle. Give unto me your troubles, I'll endure your suffering. Place unto me your burden, I'll drink your deadly poison._

Give unto me your troubles, I'll endure your suffering. Place unto me your burden, I'll drink your deadly, sweet poison. Fear not the flame of my love's candle, let me be the light in your world of darkness. 

Alex sighed and turned around to face her. "I've never dealt with before, this could all be in our heads." He remarked, picking up a glass cube and twisting it in the sunlight. "It just feels like it's all around us." 

"It?" Clear questioned, trying to figure out the point that Alex was trying to figure out and wondering if there was one at all. 

"What if Tod just the first...of us?" Alex questioned, wishing that someone had the answers that he was searching for. 

Clear raised an eyebrow. "Is this something that you're feeling?" She asked, wondering if Alex had tapped into something far greater then either of them had imagined. 

Alex shrugged, helpless. "I don't know, I just wish I could see him...one last time." He didn't know how that would help but he was almost certain that it would. 

A large smile spread across Clear's face. "Then let's go see him." 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Okay, all the dialouge in this scene was pretty much the same, minus a few words, because I felt like showing off that yes, I really do know the movie by heart. This song belongs to Evanescence, the best band ever; I know I'm supposed to be waiting until the end of the story to give the song titles but I just had to say that Evanescence is cool. 


	9. The Morgue

After long last, the musical extravaganza has returned, hopefully for the best. Sorry to keep everyone waiting, but here's another chapter. And, just a little side note, the song included in this chapter is just so that there will be a song in every chapter and I'm not just repeating the movie all over. 

Chapter Eight 

The Morgue 

The night was cold, even for May, yet Alex and Clear didn't appear to mind the chill as they scaled the roof of Abraham Funeral Home, where Tod Wagner's body was being kept until his funeral in two days. Clear was leading the way, her feet expertly finding the best places in the rotting trellis, complete with wilting roses, that snaked alongside of the building, leading up to the roof. As Alex followed after the brunette, he wondered how she seemed to know exactly what she was doing, had she broken into a lot of morgues? 

Clear was prying open the stain glass skylight to would be their entrance into the building by the time Alex arrived, huffing and puffing, dropping to his knees to catch his breath. He didn't quite like the fact that he was letting her know just how out of shape he was, but there was nothing he could do to keep from struggling to catch his breath.

"You all right?" Clear questioned, glancing over at him as soon as she had the window open, raising an eyebrow. 

Alex nodded and waved his hand, as though dismissing her concern. "Just fine." He mumbled as he got to his feet once more, joining her at the open window. Clear didn't look too convinced, but remained silent as she turned and began to lower herself, feet first, into the silent morgue. 

Wondering, not for the first time, if they were completely in their right minds, Alex followed suit, groping with his legs for somewhere to touch down. Clear landed on one of the open coffins, finding her balance so that she didn't tumble off the casket, and glanced up to see Alex still dangling from the window. 

"Easy." She instructed, placing her hand on his back as though to steady him so that he could make the drop. After another moment's pause, he dropped down beside her, looking proud of himself for completing the break-in. 

Clear leapt off the casket and onto the floor, grinning when Alex joined her. "It gives me a rush." She admitted devilishly, a smile upon her face. 

Alex stared at her in disbelief. "This place?" He questioned, trying to figure out just what she was talking about. She would be a lot stranger then he had first thought if sneaking into morgues turned her on. 

"Doing something I'm not supposed to." She corrected, turning away from him and heading down the hallway. Alex watched her for a moment before hurrying after her, liking the idea of sneaking into a funeral home considerably less then she did. 

Clear and Alex navigated through a series a rabbit hole tunnels before finding the room labeled The Standards Room. Alex turned the doorknob and was almost disappointed to find that the door was locked. He sent Clear to fish around the other rooms for something to use to somehow unlock the door to the Standards Room; he figured that she would be adept at poking around then he would be. 

After a few minutes, Clear returned with a skinny, curved metal object that looked much like a hook, though Alex couldn't imagine what it would be used for. He slipped the hook through the slit between the double doors and turned it until the curved end caught on what he guessed to be the handle. The handle jerked when he pulled and the door swung up, granting them entrance into the Standards Room. 

Alex and Clear entered side by side, gazing around before looking at the gurney in the middle of the room; Tod rested upon the metal slab, a sheet covering him to his neck, which was ringed with raw circles where the wire had embedded itself into his skin. 

"That him?" Alex questioned, though he felt foolish, yet he sensed the need to say something, to dispel the feel of Death in the room. 

Clear wrinkled her nose, as though unsure. "I think. Why do they make him up like Michael Jackson?" They took a step closer, their gaze never leaving the corpse that they had once known. 

"Whatever made him Tod is definitely gone." Alex observed, feeling a pang of sadness at the sight of his once alive friend. The last time he had seen Tod, he was so alive, yet now he was nothing. 

Alex stared at the body, unsure of what he was supposed to realize; he had figured that coming to see Tod would give him some strange insight into what was going on, what he felt, yet nothing was happening. Without warning, Tod's hand jerked upward, causing both Clear and Alex to jump backward, shocked. 

"Jesus Christ!" Alex cried, grabbing onto Clear's arm without even realizing what he was doing. She looked equally frightened and confused, unable to figure out how a dead boy had just moved. 

"Shh...please, you'll wake the dead." A hauntingly smooth voice said from somewhere in the shadows. Alex and Clear turned in the direction of the voice to see a tall, slightly menacing black man slipping out of the shadows. 

Alex studied him for a moment before saying, "Why'd his hand do that?" He wasn't sure why it was so important to figure out the answer to that question, because Tod was most certainly dead. 

"Chemicals in the vascular flush create cadaveric spasms." The man explained, crossing to the head of the gurney and studying the body that lay upon it. Alex assumed he was the employee in charge of making up the bodies before they were seen at open casket funerals. 

"I'm his friend and-" Alex began, only to be stopped by the morgue attendant, who simply brushed his words aside. 

"I know who you are." He picked up a makeup brush, the end dark with concealer, and began brushing it along the corpse's neck, as though Alex and Clear weren't there at all. 

Clear studied the man's actions for a moment before saying, "What are all those tiny marks?" She hadn't noticed them until the man began to brush makeup over Tod's neck and now she wanted to know just why they were there. They couldn't have been caused by strangulation. 

"Cuticle lacerations from pulling at the wire." The man answered. 

Alex frowned after hearing the man's words. "Pulling at the wire? If he was pulling at the wire then he wasn't trying to kill himself, it was an accident." He knew he had been right all along about his friend's death not having been a suicide. That meant that something strange was going on, he had felt it. 

"In Death, there are no accidents, no coincidences and no escapes." The man told him, voice low and gravelly, yet somehow enchanting. "What you have to realize is that we're all just a mouse that a cat has by the tail; every single move we make, from the mundane to the monumental -the red light that we stop at or run, the people we have sex with or won't with us, the airplanes that we ride or walk out of- is all part of Death's sadistic Design leading to the grave." 

Everything the attendant had said unnerved Alex, yet the last part intrigued him. Design? If there was a certain Design, could it be broken? "Design...does that mean if you figure out the Design you can cheat Death?" He questioned, not quite sure why he was asking this man. Just because he worked at a morgue didn't make him an expert on the inner workings of "Death", whatever that really was. 

"Alex, you've all ready done that by walking off the plan." The man explained, not even bothering to explain how he knew the teenager's name. "Now you have to figure out how and when it's coming back at you. Play your hunch Alex, if you think you can get away with it; but remember the risk of cheating the plan, of disrespecting the Design could incite a fury that could terrorize even the Grim Reaper. And you don't even wanna fuck with that Mac Daddy." His voice had suddenly gotten low, threatening and Alex suddenly wanted to be far away from this place and judging by the look on Clear's face she fully agreed. 

With a forced nonchalant expression, Alex clapped his hands together and sighed. "Well, okay then. Sorry we broke in and-" He wasn't quite sure what he was going to say, but the ominous man cut him off before he could even think about it. 

"No harm, no foul." He assured Alex with a shark-toothed smile that made Clear back up a step and grab Alex's arm, ushering him toward the door. The teenager followed her out the room, yet couldn't help but turn around for a final look at the man behind him. He wasn't surprised to see that morgue attendant was already staring at him. "I'll see you soon." He assured Alex with a wink. 

Fully creeped out, Alex quickly skirted from the room, letting the door ease shut behind him. He found Clear waiting from him in the middle of the hallway, as though she had only stopped when she realized that he wasn't following her. "Can you believe that guy? He was crazy." She mumbled as soon as Alex joined her. 

Alex tried to nod in agreement but couldn't decide if he fully believed in her statement; the things that the man had said about Death and its Design made a strange amount of sense to him. What if there was some grand Design at work, something that controlled every action he took in life, including his Death. 

* * * 

Terry Chaney ran a brush through her semi-curly blonde hair as she regarded her perfect reflection in her mirror, admiring the way that she looked, just as she did every morning and night, and many times during the school day. She had her mother to thank for her beauty pageant goodlooks, though she never did, caring on her snobby cheerleader attitude even at home. 

Setting her brush aside, Terry primped her hair and smiled full toothed at her reflection, puckering her lips as well; sometimes life was simply too kind, giving her killer looks and a good body, plus the star of the football team for her boyfriend. Perhaps there was a reason that she hadn't died in that plane explosion with the rest of the Mt. Abraham High cheerleading team; she was, after all, the captain and perhaps the best cheerleader of the bunch. Plus, she was always much better at getting the guys then Crysta Andrews or Adrienne Grant. Mt. Abraham needed her to keep up the pep in spirit after the accident. The guys loved staring at her ass, even Carter, who told her over and over again that he didn't like her just because of her looks, though he always said it without conviction. 

"_The boys are bad, the boys are good, they would all love me if only they could. It's only play and only pretend, 'cause I can see through all those men. Who am I supposed to be? A girl who stays at home alone? Baby needs a fantasy, someone who'll never let me go. Could I be forgiven for how I want my life to be?_" Terry sang, turning away from her mirror. 

"_I'm gonna wish upon a star, I wanna go a bit too far; need a little love to get me by. I'm gonna wish upon a star, don't you think I'm going too far? I need a little trouble to get me by." _Terry sashayed over toward her window, imagining herself in the arms of an invisible dance partner, looking through the glass at the stars that weren't veiled by the city lights. 

"_If you like what you're seeing, then keep on believing, gonna have it my way. So you better watch out 'cause you should have no doubt, I don't care what people say. I'm gonna wish upon a star, I wanna go a bit too far. I need a little love to get me by._" Terry twirled away from the window and over to her bed. "_I'm gonna wish upon a star, I'm gonna go a bit too far. I need a little love to get me by, let's start with you and I_." She blew an air kiss before dropping down upon her bed, staring up at the ceiling with a smile upon her face. 

Yes, it was certainly a good thing she hadn't died in the plane explosion. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I know, the song was pushing it, but I wanted a scene with Terry since she's only in the movie for a limited time; I always thought of her as a bitchy girl. You have to imagine her singing to song with _Grease _style dance moves, it just really accents the hilarity of the whole thing. So, anyways, please review. 


	10. Reunion

So, since it's been so long since I've updated this story, I thought I'd post two chapters, just to appease all my loyal and waiting readers out there. A little note, I realized that I spelled "Krista" wrong in the previous chapter, sorry, I wasn't thinking! So, as always, review and enjoy! 

Chapter Nine 

Reunion 

The following day was somewhat overcast, just as many of the days before it had been, yet many residents of Mt. Abraham were out and about, enjoying the spring temperature, including Alex and Clear. After breaking into the morgue the previous night, they had parted on the promise to meet for coffee the following morning to discuss what the mortician had said after they had had the chance to let everything sink in and the creepiness to wear off. Alex had lain awake all night thinking about Death and the Design; Clear had lain awake all night thinking about Alex. Regardless of their lack of sleep, the two had met outside Clear's favorite coffee shop just as promised. 

As Clear followed Alex to an outside table, she couldn't help but study his features, that she had become so familiar with over the previous days; she had always had a crush on him, yet now it was becoming more. Now that he was actually talking to her and spending time with her it had become something slightly more promising. She continued to stare at him as she forced herself to at least look as though she was paying attention to what he was saying, though she wasn't in the least. Clear was, instead, trying to figure out if she was in love with Alex and if that was actually a good thing. 

"_Love can be a many splendid thing, can't deny the joy it brings: a dozen roses, diamond rings, dreams for sale and fairy tales. It'll make you hear a symphony and you just want the world to sing. But like a drug that makes you blind, it'll fool you every time._" Clear sang as Alex continued to talk. _"The trouble with love is it can tear you up inside, make your heart believe a lie. It's stronger then your pride. The trouble with love is it doesn't care how fast you fall and you can't refuse the call. See you got no say at all._" 

"Clear, I'm talking about omens." Alex said, jarring her from her thoughts for just a moment. "What if by sitting here, by sipping this coffee or breathing the air or even crossing the intersection that we haven't started, in motion, the design that will someday lead to our death's forty years from now, ten years, tomorrow." He paused, waiting to see if she would comment. When she didn't, he continued. "We don't, unless we open ourselves up to what the Designs are willing to show us." Alex reached into his pocket, pulled out a tiny scrap of paper and pushed it across the table to Clear. 

Brow knitting, Clear picked up the piece of paper to study it, seeing that it said a single word, Tod, in bold black print. "I don't understand, did you see Tod die, did it happen again?" She questioned, slipping back into her state of ignoring him when she noted just how his eyes sparkled when he talked. 

"_Now I was once a fool, it's true, I'll played the game by all the rules. But now my world's a deeper blue, I'm sadder but I'm wiser too. I swore I'd never love again, swore my heart would never mend. Said love wasn't worth the pain, but then I hear it call my name." _

Alex shook his head. "No, I didn't but I might as well have. This is a message from something, Clear, or someone hinting at a Design." 

"_Every time I turn around, I think I got all figured, my heart keeps calling and I keep on falling over and over again. This sad story always ends the same, me standing in the pouring rain. It seems no matter what I do, it tears my heart in two. The trouble with love is it can tear you up inside, make your heart believe a lie. It's stronger then your pride. The trouble with love is it doesn't care how fast you fall and you can't refuse the call. You got no say at all._" 

Clear shook her head, managing to pull herself out of her thoughts about Alex. "Total bullshit," She told him, proof that she had been listening somewhat through her ideas about the life they could have together. "You can find Death Omens anywhere you want to." She looked around, trying to find something to prove her point; Clear picked up her half-empty coffee cup and held it up for Alex to see. "Coffee, starts with a 'c' and ends with an 'e'; so does the word choke so what, we're gonna choke to death?" She realized that Alex wasn't listening to her, but instead starring at something past her, toward the windows of the building. "I wanna hear you, we'll go nuts if you start with this shit." 

Alex blinked his eyes, trying to turn his attention back to what Clear was saying and trying to convince himself that he had not seen the reflection of a bus in the windows behind her when there was no bus on the street. All this Death stuff was making him go crazy. Realizing that Clear was right about the omens thing, he decided to change gears. "The mortician said that Death has a Design. So what if you, me, Tod, Carter, Terry, Billy, Miss Lewton messed up that Design for whatever reason I...saw Death's plan and we cheated it." Clear leaned forward, interested. "But what if it was our time, what if we weren't meant to get off that plane? What if it still is our time? If it is, then It's not finished and we will die now, not later, unless...unless we find the patterns and cheat it again." Alex nodded firmly, leaning back to see what Clear would say next. He had finally figured out what was going on, yet he somehow needed her to agree.

Clear stayed silent for a long time, thinking about what he had said before finally sighing. "After hearing you I do believe...that Tod killed himself." She tried to make herself ignore the pained look in Alex's face, brought on by her words. 

Alex sighed and let his gaze leave her face and travel across the intersection, where she saw Shania Macalister window shopping with mousy Kimberly Corman tagging along behind her, heading toward the coffee shop. Inside the shop he could see Miss Lewton standing in line, eyes puffy and demeanor much different, much softer. Carter Horton's trademark sleek black car was heading down the road toward the intersection, with Terry Chaney sitting the passenger seat with a grin upon her face. Billy Hitchcock was riding on the opposite side of the road, with a paper grocery sat balanced upon his handle bars. It suddenly seemed weird to Alex that all of the survivors from Flight 180 would be in the exact same place at the same time. 

Carter caught sight of Alex and Clear sitting at the wire table outside of the coffee shop and, filled with an emotion he couldn't begin to explain, suddenly headed toward where they were sitting, almost running over Billy in the process. Terry frowned when she realized just why he had stopped. "Come on, baby, not now." She protested, though she knew her words would have no sway with the jock. 

Alex looked over when he heard Carter's door open and slam, followed by Terry's as she stepped out of the car to further protest his actions. Carter gave him a fake grin as he stepped upon the sidewalk, despite his girlfriend's words; Billy screeched his bike along side the grub, a look upon his face that attempted to be angry but really just came off afraid. "Carter you dick." He snapped, though he didn't really want to draw attention to himself. 

Unaware of the drama about to unfold, Miss Lewton stepped out of the coffee shop with a cup in one hand and a tissue in the other; seeing the drama about to unfold, Shania dragged Kimberly across the intersection and toward the curb to watch the fight that was surely brewing. Carter's grin grew even wider when he saw the audience that had gathered around. "Looks like we've got a bit of a reunion here." He pointed out. 

Alex stood up and decided now would be a good time to tell everyone what he had learned about the Design. "Listen, I've got something to tell you and you're probably not going to believe it-" Clear cut him off by holding up her hand for him to stop what he was saying and think things through. 

"So, I heard you were moving." Carter said to Lewton, who simply nodded. "That's too bad, we'll be losing our favorite teacher." He turned to face Alex, who was pressing on with what he had to say and ignoring Clear's warning. "See, now she's gotta move and it's all because of Browning!" 

"God enough! Both of you!" Terry commanded with a frustrated cry, causing everyone to grow silent and stare at her. "They died and we lived, get over it. I will not let this plane crash be the most important thing in my life!" She punched Carter on the shoulder as she spoke, feeling angry all of the sudden. Everyone continued to watch her as she headed toward the intersection, backing up so that she could still stare at Carter and Alex. "I'm moving on, Carter and if you wanna waste your life beating the shit out of Alex every time you see him. Then you can just drop fucking dead!" 

Terry stepped off the curb and turned around in time to see the city bus come hurtling toward her, hitting her dead on before she could so much as blink. Kimberly and Shania shrieked as they got covered with blood and gore as they bus went squealing down the street. Clear turned her head aside, though it was far too late to do any good; Carter stared in disbelief at the stop where Terry had stood seconds earlier, and where there was now only blood and one of her shoes. Alex's eyes grew wide as he tried to comprehend what had happened; he still hadn't fully understood what he had seen even when the ambulance arrived, much too late. 


End file.
